


Stamping on Butterflies

by Fyre



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a bandit who was once a Princess robbed a Prince who was once a shepherd. Some trolls, an Evil Queen, a conniving King and an imp's intervention later, and in the end, they almost lived happily ever after. Until their long-lost daughter stepped into the wrong magic at the wrong time.</p><p>(Back to the Future meets Once Upon a Time)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I don't have enough to do, I thought Back to the Future as an OUaT fic would be a BRILLIANT idea. I still think it is. Whether anyone else shares the sentiment is another matter. And whether I have done it justice... well, I leave that to you.

Emma tumbled through the undergrowth, cursing through her teeth as she tried to gain purchase on the ground. She didn't like forests at the best of times, and being thrown into the middle of one by a burst of accidental magic was even worse. 

She managed to catch herself on a sapling, hooking her arm around it. She skidded to a halt and sat up to catch her breath. There were leaves and twigs in her hair, and she knew Henry would laugh himself sick when he saw her. 

She looked around to get her bearings.

It wasn't any part of the forest that she knew.

"Great," she muttered to herself, struggling to her feet and brushing herself down. She was halfway down a hill, and there was a road at the bottom. Roads were good. Roads lead to civilisation and buildings and things that weren't trees and dirt. "Gold, when I find you, I'm going to kill you."

It was definitely his fault.

Fifteen minutes earlier, she'd walked into his shop, determined to confront him about the theft of the golden egg and what it contained. It was a week since the curse broke, a week of everyone pulling their lives back together. The shop was a wreck, cabinets smashed open and turned over. The place stank of chemicals as well, and when she stepped into the back shop, the place was full of purple smoke.

"What the hell!" 

Gold had looked at her, a manic gleam in his eye. "I have to undo it," he said. "I have to show her it's not about the power."

"The hell you do!" Emma remembered saying, storming over to him and grabbing his wrist. "Enough already. No more magic!"

He jerked his wrist free. The orb he was holding slipped from his fingers and they both recoiled as it shattered. The room blazed white and the next thing she knew, she was tumbling down a hillside.

She slipped and staggered her way down towards the road. She could hear something approaching and groaned in disbelief at the sight of an ornate white and gold coach pulled by horses. Some people were getting way too into their old lives, if they were hauling out horses and carriages. 

She heard a crack of a branch high above her and looked up.

There was someone hidden in the tree, cloaked and hooded. From their position, they had a clear view of the road, and Emma glanced along the road to see what they were looking for. A fallen tree lay across the road, blocking the coach's path.

Emma looked back up, startled. Bandits. In cloaks. In a forest. If Robin Hood was on the loose, her job was about to get a lot more complicated. She started running down the hill as fast she could without the bandit noticing. If she could warn the people in the carriage, then at least she was doing part of her job right. 

The coach slowed to a halt before she could reach the road, and she was too out of breath to shout out. A man got out of the coach and two guards dismounted from their horses, and Emma wanted to scream out that it was a trap. She put on another burst of speed as the bandit dropped from the trees and landed on the roof of the carriage. 

She hit the road just as the woman in the coach screamed, and stuck out her arm and clotheslined the bandit as they fled towards the horse. The bandit hit the ground with a grunt, the hood falling back from a very familiar face. 

Mary Margaret - Snow White - her mother glared up at her. Emma couldn't help but stare, and that was a mistake. Snow White's foot slammed up and hit her in the middle of the chest, knocking her on her ass, and then her mother was up and running.

"Hey!" Emma yelled. "Hey!" she scrambled up and raced after her, but Snow White was already leaping onto a horse. Emma grabbed her by the leg with one hand, belt with the other, and could not have been more surprised when Snow White swung around and punched her full in the face.

Emma staggered, her grip loosening, and Snow White kicked the horse's sides, racing off.

The only good thing to come of her intervention, Emma thought vaguely, her head spinning, was the fact she'd managed to snatch the purse that her mother had stolen from the coach. She looked down at the little leather pouch, turning it over in her hands.

"Ma'am?" A familiar voice spoke from behind her and Emma's eyes widened in horror. "Ma'am, are you all right?"

She turned to find her father looking at her. Numbly, she held out the purse to him. "She took this," she said. 

Her father took it gratefully. "Thank you," he said, strapping it back onto his belt. "We had no idea there were bandits around here."

"Yeah," Emma said, lifting a hand to her throbbing head. "How about that?"

She'd never been the kind of person to faint, but right now, it seemed like the best idea in the world. 

 

______________________________________________________

 

 

As places to wake up went, a palace wasn't a bad one. 

Emma winced, rubbing her head, as consciousness returned. It took her a second to realise that first off, she was in a bed with curtains and more pillows than she had ever seen in her life, and second, that she was in a nightdress that looked like a lace shop had thrown up all over it. 

She stared at the cuffs in horror. "Really?" She pushed back the covers and it only got worse. All frills and ruffles, enough to make her look like a cream cake.

"You're awake, then?"

Emma froze, hands on the blankets. She looked up and around the room, to find her father standing by the window, arms folded over his chest. One thing she didn't need was knowing her father had changed her into a nightdress while she was unconscious. "Um. Yeah. Did you...?"

He blushed. He actually blushed. "No! No, of course not! The maids!"

She had a feeling her cheeks were getting red as well, which was dumb as hell. "Oh. Okay." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "Where are my pants?"

Her father averted his eyes and waved towards a changing screen. The clothing was draped over the top. "I was worried," he said. "You were asleep a long time."

Emma checked through her clothes. "Yeah, I've not been getting a lot of rest," she said, relieved to find that everything was still there, especially her badge. She straightened up and looked at him. "Where are we?"

"My father's castle," he replied. He gave her a small, self-conscious smile. "I'm James. Prince. Prince James."

Emma stared at him blankly, then pinched herself hard on the arm. "Okay. Not some whacked-out dream." She took a breath, let it out. So, magic had sent her back to the real fairytale forest. Prince James was still living with his father, and she knew there was something wrong there, but when Henry had told her the stories, she never really listened that closely. "Sheriff Swan. Is me." It seemed wiser than using her birth name. She pulled out her wallet, checked that the photograph of Henry had survived the transition. There was a group photo of her and her parents with Henry too. She looked so awkward in it. She shoved it away, so the Prince wouldn't see it. "So... um. You're married, right?"

He tugged at the pouch on his belt and withdrew a ring. It was a ring she knew. Mary Margaret never took it off before the curse broke, and Snow White never looked happier when she realised it was still there. "Not yet," he said, looking at the gem. He gave her another small, careful smile. "You saved my fiancée from the bandit."

Emma sat down hard on the nearest flat surface. Bandit. Her mother. The lack of scar on her father's face. Their laughing tale of their first meeting. "Oh crap."

"Are you all right?" Prince James said. "You look pale."

"Long story," she said, hauling her clothes down. "First things first, I have to find Gold."

"Gold?" Her father frowned. "You need money for your journey?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "I need to find the man you call Rumpelstiltskin."

Prince James's face turned hard. "I wouldn't recommend you do that," he said.

"Yeah, I would say the same," she said with a sigh. "But it looks like I don't have a choice." She looked at him, then at the screen, and back. "You mind? I need to get dressed."

"Oh!" He blushed again. "Yeah. Of course." He strode across the room, then paused at the door. "I'll wait for you outside. This place is a bit of a maze."

"Great!" Emma said, smiling as much as she could. As soon as the door closed, she knocked her head back against the changing screen. "Just great."

She emerged five minutes later, snapping her Sheriff's star onto her belt. Prince James straightened up from the wall with a smile that she was starting to recognise. She'd been on the receiving end of that smile from more guys than she cared to count.

"Do you want something to eat before you go? My father's cooks are among the best in the Kingdoms."

"No." Better to get him off her back now, before he started getting the wrong idea. "I really have to go." She looked sidelong at him. "Do you know where I can find Rumpelstiltskin?"

"No one finds him," the Prince said with a scowl. "He finds you."

"I can't wait for that," Emma said abruptly. "Point me in the right direction and I'll get there."

He caught her shoulder. "You don't have to," he said. "Rumpelstiltskin isn't a good person to be involved with. We could help you."

She looked at him, the man who was her father who had forgotten her all over again. It hurt even more than she realised it would. "No," she said, "you can't help me. Not this time." 

She ran her thumb over one point of the star on her belt, then frowned, looking down at it. It wasn't as rounded as it usually was. It looked like the tip was wearing away. She looked up, at her father. Who should have met her mother, if she hadn't intervened. If they didn't meet, then she would never have been born, and if she was never born, how could she be the Saviour and wear the Sheriff's star from Storybrooke?

She closed her hand around it, and looked back up at the Prince. "I need to find him. He's the only one who can undo what he did."

The Prince closed the gap between them, grasping her shoulders. "If he harmed you..."

Emma stared up at him. He was still the good man she knew, but he didn't know her, and he was looking at her with a stupid, soft, protective look that he normally directed at her mother. 

"Yeah," she said. "He turned me into a woman."

Her father blinked, then carefully withdrew his hands from her. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply..." He was blushing even more now. "You make a comely woman, Sir."

Emma felt a little guilty, but it was easier than dealing with the fact that her own father was checking her out. "I'm not bad," she agreed, "but right now, I want to find that son of a bitch and get myself back to where I should be."

"You'll need a sword," her father said, jerking his hand and motioning for her to walk with him. He walked with longer strides now, as if expecting her to be able to keep up. It felt better that way, more natural. "We can provide you with a horse too, but I don't know if it'll help. His castle is many leagues from here."

"Anything that can get me to him faster..." She paused. "Don't you have some way of sending messages for him?"

The Prince shook his head. "Father has forbidden him from entering these lands. He's dangerous."

"Yeah, getting that," Emma said ruefully. "Just don't ask about dragons."

Her father looked at her. "You too?"

She gave him a lop-sided smile. "It was a rough day."

"James!" They both turned at the voice. A man Emma recognised as the District Attorney was walking briskly towards them, and looked Emma coolly up and down. "I'm assuming this is your rescuer?"

"Father, this is Sheriff Swan," the Prince said. "Sheriff, this is my father, King George."

Emma stuck out her hand. "Hey."

The King looked at her hand, then back at her face. She didn't have to be a good people person to recognise disdain. "I see." He turned his attention to his son. "See to it that she is paid for her service and set on her way."

"She seeks Rumpelstiltskin, father." There was enough defiance in her father's voice to earn a dark look from King George. "She saved Princess Abigail from the bandit. I think it's only right that I make sure he is found and the curse broken."

"It's okay," Emma said, raising her hands. "I don't need to be a problem. Just put me on a horse and point me in the right direction."

"You heard the woman, James," his father said coldly. "You already have a Princess. You don't need some uncouth wild woman."

"Hey!" Emma said indignantly. 

King George ignored her, his eyes hard on his son, and the Prince reluctantly bowed his head. "I'll provide and escort to the borders, father," he agreed. "Master Swan has earned that much."

"Master...?" King George stared at her. "This was your curse? To be a woman?"

"Could be worse," Emma said with a dark smile. "I could have been turned into a raging asshole."

The King scrutinised her a moment longer, then swept off, leaving her with the Prince.

"So," she said, looking at her father. "You must be adopted."

Prince James blushed to the tips of his ears. "I don't know what you mean," he said, motioning for her to follow him.

"It's a compliment," she said, trailing after him. "Is his head always so far up his ass?"

Her father snorted in amusement. "He's a King."

"And you're a Prince, but you seem to have got away without being a jerk," she said, giving him a knowing smirk. 

"Maybe that'll change when I'm a King?" he suggested. 

She looked him up and down. "Don't see it happening," she said. "You've got Mr Nice Guy written all over you."

"Thanks," he said, one side of his mouth turning up, "I think."

 

______________________________________________________

 

 

Within the hour, they were on the way to the border.

Emma knew it was obvious she didn't know how a horse worked. She could sit facing the right way and hold onto the reins, but controlling the thing? That wasn't something that had ever been high up her list of priorities. It was just fortunate that the animal seemed to know what it was meant to be doing, and raced after her father on his horse. All she could do was hold on and hope for the best. 

Almost an hour later, Prince James's horse slowed to a trot when they were in the shade of the trees, and Emma bounced alongside him.

"You're not a rider, are you?"

She glared at him. "Not on horses, no," she said. 

He reached over and caught the reins, slowing her horse and reining his own in. "We can walk the rest of the way," he said. "It's not far from here, and if we're lucky, you can call on him and he should appear."

"Like the boogeyman," she murmured to herself as she slid down from the horse. Her legs ached and shook under her, but she grabbed the saddle and kept to her feet. "So what's the big deal with this Rumpelstiltskin guy? Why is everyone so afraid of him?"

He looked at her in disbelief. "After what he did to you? You're not afraid of him?"

"Oh trust me," she said. "I've had a lot worse than this." She circled around in front of the horse. "You don't like him. Your father has banished him. What's so terrible about him?"

"He deals in lives," Prince James said, his expression grim. "If anyone wants anything from him, they must pay a great price."

"Because all magic comes at a price," Emma murmured. "Huh. He wasn't kidding."

"Of course not." A voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar rang out from the shadow of the trees. "I never kid, dearie."

James had his sword out and pointed in the direction of the voice in an instant.

"Tsk tsk, your Highness." The voice came from behind them, and they both whirled around. "You know I dislike having those things pointing at me."

"Show yourself!" James snarled. 

"I was, dearie." The voice seemed to be right in Emma's ear and she turned to find herself face-to-face with a reptilian man with pointed teeth and glittering dark eyes. "You just weren't paying attention." She could see a little of Gold in there, and knew just who she was looking at.

"Rumpelstiltskin."

He giggled. "Yes, indeed!"

She caught him by the throat and drove him back three steps to pin him to the nearest tree. He didn't look afraid. More than anything, he looked amused. "You have caused me a world of trouble," she said coolly. "You're going to fix it."

He put his head to one side. "And why would I do that, dearie?" he said, grinning maliciously. "You have little of value, little of worth. My prices are high." He craned his head towards her. "Give me one reason that you can make it worth my while."

Emma stared at him, the strange imp who had become Mr Gold, her sometime enemy and ally. She thought of the shop, of the chaos, of the magic he was twisting. He wanted to show 'her'. There was only one person in town who could impel him to act that way. 

She leaned closer, her lips close to his ear, and whispered, "Belle."

He seemed to go limp in her grip. She hadn't realised how tightly coiled he had been, no doubt preparing to strike out with magic, but that simple word, that name, was enough to drive all the fire and fury that he had been holding back. She drew back enough to look him in the eyes, and for a split-second, he looked fearful.

He straightened up, pushing her arm aside, and fluttered his hands at James. "Run along, little lamb," he said. "The lady and I have business to discuss."

"Sheriff?" James said. His sword was still raised, even though the gesture was futile. 

"I'll be fine," she assured him, glancing back with a quick smile. "I've got what I came for."

James was barely out of sight when their positions were reversed and Rumpelstiltskin's claws were at her throat, pinning her back against the tree. "What do you know of that name?" he snarled, his face so close to hers that she could taste the reek of alcohol on his breath. "What do you know of her?"

Emma thought frantically. She was in the past. She'd already messed it up, but she couldn't give away parts of the future, not when it could change even more. If he found Belle in this world, maybe he would never create the Dark Curse. If he didn't, she wouldn't be her. He couldn't know, and she couldn't tell. 

"I know who she was to you," she said quietly. "That's the key to what you were trying to do."

"And what," he hissed, pressing oppressively close to her, "was I trying to do?"

"Get to a world without magic."

He recoiled back from her, staring, wide-eyed. His fingers twitched and flexed by his sides. "A trick."

"No trick," Emma replied, rubbing her bruised throat. "Truth. You're building a dark curse."

He paced back and forth in front of her, watching her intently. "How do you know this?"

"Because it worked," she said, holding his gaze. "I'm from that world, from the future."

"Ha! And why are you here, future girl?"

She pushed off from the tree and stalked towards him. "Because you screwed up, and now, you're going to set it right."

"And why would I do that, dearie?" he sneered, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. 

"Because I'm the embodiment of true love," she said, "and you can't fight that."


	2. Chapter 2

Rumpelstiltskin paced in front of the fire, the flames dancing and casting strange shadows. 

Emma couldn't help watching him. She could see Gold in there, but where Gold was still, Rumpelstiltskin was constantly in motion. If he stopped walking, his hands continued to move, twisting together, fingertips tapping against one another.

They were in a castle, his castle if she was to believe him.

The room they were in was large and grand, and dozens of shimmering and strange objects stood on pedestals around the room. The strangest of the objects was the simplest: while everything else hummed with magic, the first pedestal she noticed, the one that caught her eye when she entered the room, was occupied by a china cup. It was pretty, white with a blue pattern and a barely noticeable chip out of the rim.

There was something important about it, that much she knew. It was bugging her. She was sure she'd seen it before, but she couldn't remember where, and she sure as hell wasn't about to ask. 

To her surprise, he had been unusually courteous. It seemed that manners were something that Gold and Rumpelstiltskin had in common, even if his extravagant fairytale personality had been completely reined in back in Storybrooke. He provided tea and even warm food as he interrogated her about where she came from, what she knew, how the curse had worked. 

She knew she had to be careful with what she was telling him. She seen enough science fiction and time travel movies as a kid to know that if someone learned about their future, they might do something to try and change it. With all the messes she had already made, it was easier to try and fix her own timeline, instead of messing up someone else's.

"Do you know who the caster was?" he demanded, turning abruptly.

Emma nodded. "I think you know too."

His strangely-large eyes studied her and he pressed his fingertips together. "Regina." It was less speech and more snarl. 

Emma sprawled back in the arm chair, looking at him curiously. "So she was always crazy?"

"No, no, no," Rumpelstiltskin murmured, swinging around and pacing again. "Not crazy, dearie. Vengeful. The last I heard, she was occupying herself with petty hurts and hunting her missing step-child." He darted a look at her. "What, I wonder, could drive her to the point of breaking the world?"

Emma wrapped her hands around her cup, meeting his eyes. "What if the person she hated was going to be happy? The happiest kind of happy?"

Abruptly, Rumpelstiltskin was in the chair opposite her, leaning forward and searching her features. "Oh, I see," he murmured. "Ah, yes, yes. I didn't see it before, but yes. There it is." He leaned closer, almost oppressively so, and tilted her chin up with a fingertip. "The resemblance is there. You are the child of Snow White." He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing curiously. "But who, I wonder, is the bold father?"

Emma lifted her chin away from his fingertip. "I think you called him little lamb?"

Rumpelstiltskin's expression was blank for a moment, then he gave a great laugh and leapt to his feet. "Of course, of course!" he crowed, clapping his hands together. "The boy was born with a purpose, something far greater than the slaying of a dragon and the marriage of a Princess." He resumed pacing. "True love, indeed. And hers, of course." He wheeled around suddenly. "What has this to do with you now?"

Emma grimaced. "There may be a problem."

He was suddenly still, and it felt like the whole world froze with him. "What problem?"

"I gatecrashed their first meeting," Emma replied. "She was meant to rob him and he was meant to go after her."

"And you... prevented this?" There was suddenly something cold, hostile, in his voice. It was enough to make her sit up, ready to move if she had to, and for the first time, she could see why people might fear him. 

"Don't lay this on me," she retorted. "I'm not the one who was messing around with unstable magic. I'm not the one who sent me all the way back here." She met his eyes. "There was someone being robbed. I tried to help. I'm a Sheriff. It's what I do. How the hell was I meant to know I was back where the big romance started?"

He was rigid, his fingers twitching by his sides. "Heroes," he muttered in a way that sounded more like 'idiots'.

"So what do we do?" Emma asked.

He tapped his claws along the mantle. "I don't play well with others, dearie."

"Join the club," she snorted. "You think I want to be here? My kid is back in the other world, and I want to get back to him." He looked at her then, some strange emotion in his eyes. "I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here, but if we don't work together, my past and your future are both screwed."

He tapped the claw of his forefinger lightly on the mantle, gazing at her. "And this true love is the key," he murmured.

"It's the only magic powerful enough to break any curse," she said, echoing his own words back at him. "You told me that." she set down her cup. "Are you going to help me?"

Rumpelstiltskin walked back across to the other chair and sat, crossing one knee over the other. "You said you were raised in a cruel world," he said. "You could change that by being here. Why would you want to make things the way they were before?"

She met his eyes. "For all the crap that happened," she said, "there's Henry. No matter what happened to me, what I lived through, I would never undo that."

He gazed at her, blinking slowly. "A parent will do many terrible things and suffer many cruelties for the sake of their child," he observed quietly.

For a moment, he was Gold, and she remembered words he had said to her months before.

"Before you know it, you lose them," she murmured.

His lips twitched and he inclined his head. "Indeed."

Was it possible, she wondered, that he was speaking from experience? No one had ever said anything about Gold having a child, and no one she knew now knew Rumpelstiltskin well enough to tell her if he had been a father.

"So, if we are to begin this venture," he said, leaning back in his seat, "have you told me everything?"

"Everything you need to know," she replied. She couldn't help the wry smile that crossed her face. "Got to say this is weird, me knowing more than you for once."

"Need to know?" he echoed, eyes narrowing. "There's more?"

She set her cup down. "You of all people should know it's dangerous to know about your future," she said. "You might screw something up like I already did. You want to risk the curse?"

He watched her intently. "The curse will get us to a world without magic. It will get us where we need to be? And everything else will be resolved?"

Emma considered it. They were still closed into a magic-fuelled Storybrooke, but things were getting better.

"Pretty much," she said. "And since I've given you the key to your curse, how about we say you owe me a favour?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. "Clever girl," he said. "You're learning."

 

 

_____________________________________________

 

 

The woods looked deserted, but there was movement in a large hollowed-out tree trunk.

"She lives in there?"

Rumpelstiltskin turned over the scrying glass with a nod. "When the Queen is out for blood, the stronger the hiding place, the better," he replied. He glanced sidelong at Emma, who tried to keep her attention on the glass. "You know your mother, child. What would she do?"

"I've known my mother a week," Emma countered. "Before that, she was someone else." She gestured to her bruised cheek. "Last time I saw her, she punched me in the face."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted in amusement. "I see a certain likeness," he said, sweeping a hand over the glass. It cleared at once. They were in the tallest tower of the castle. He had informed her it was called the Dark Castle. She rolled her eyes and called him a pretentious jackass. "You say she was meant to rob him?"

"And he was meant to go after her. It was all over his mom's ring. Snow stole it."

He studied her. "And what could make him go after her this time?"

Emma reached into the pocket of her jacket and withdrew a small leather purse. "I think the Prince will have noticed it's missing by now," she said.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled. "Ah, yes," he said. "Bandit begets bandit." He snatched it from her hand, flipping it open and riffling through the contents. There were various jewels within, but without hesitation, he plucked the ring that her father had been so enamoured with. Her mother's engagement ring. "Ah."

"Ah?" Emma echoed. "What's ah? Is it magic?"

He chuckled. "Dearie, you'll learn soon enough that there are some things deeper than magic." He flipped the ring into the air and caught it in his palm. "This little trinket was given with love. More than once too, I'd wager." He tilted his hand, letting the gem catch the light. "This is what a shepherd would fight for over land and wealth."

"So we get her to steal it and then I let him know, and he goes after her," Emma declared. "Simple."

Rumpelstiltskin look at her incredulously. "You've travelled back through time and destroyed your parents relationship by being heroic, undoing your entire existence, and you expect this will be simple?"

They were barely inches from one another and she glowered at him. "Let me believe it, okay?" she said. "I'm still processing the whole magic-is-real thing. Baby steps are what I need right now, and baby steps mean this will go exactly to plan and everything will be simple."

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. "Baby steps it is," he said. "Everything will be fine and there's no chance at all that this will go horribly wrong."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an asshole?"

He snickered. "Not if they didn't want to be turned into a snail and stepped on," he replied. He replaced the ring into the leather pouch and handed it back to her. "Do you have some cunning and crafty plan to ensure that your erstwhile mother acquires the purse?"

Emma tucked it back into her pocket. "Sure," she said. "I thought I would break into her place."

He looked at her in disbelief. "That's it?"

Emma shrugged. "Simple is better than over-complicated," she said. "Less chance for things to go wrong if you stick with simple. I get the ring to her. You tell the Prince where it is. They meet. They... do whatever true love thing they do."

He shook his head. "I forgot how refreshing blind optimism could be," he said dryly.

"So what's your plan, smart guy?"

He grinned, showing sharp, yellowed teeth. "Mostly the same as yours," he said, "but rather than tell the Prince where it is, we will spread the tale of two strong-willed female bandits working in cahoots. We shall make sure some little trinkets from the castle also disappear, supposedly on your sticky fingers." 

"And he'll come after me instead?"

He shrugged with a smirk. "He would have done anyway, dearie," he said. "You robbed him and stole his mother's precious jewels. With more than just the ring stolen, King George will have no choice but to let him come after you both."

"And you'll point him in the right direction?" 

He whirled away from her and bowed extravagantly. "For a price, of course," he said. 

"Of course," Emma said, shaking her head. "So, can you get me to Snow White?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. "Good luck," he said. He snapped his fingers and purple smoke surrounded her. 

 

 

__________________________________________________

 

 

Emma tumbled and skidded to a halt in a pile of leaves.

"I'll kill you one of these days, I swear to God," she muttered, picking herself up and dusting herself off. 

All the same, it was a relief to see that Rumpelstiltskin and Gold were as abrasive as ever. He was going to help her, but he wasn't going to be delicate about it. If he'd set her down gently, she had a feeling it would have made her suspicious, but he was being as sharp as ever. In a world that had gone nuts, that consistency felt familiar. 

She looked around, trying to spot the tree that served as her mother's hideout, but all she could see was forest.

"Great."

Picking moss out of her hair, she set off downhill. Dry leaves and twigs cracked underfoot and she pushed through the bushes, wishing again that her family had been victims of a curse that threw them out of a city with actual streets and public transport and normal stuff.

She knew it was possible to get her bearings using the sun, but she just didn't know how. When you had a car and a sat nav, you didn't really need to be able to set your course according to the sky. 

The forest was so quiet. There hardly seemed to be any birds in the trees, and a worrying thought crossed her mind: if there weren't birds singing, didn't that mean they were quiet because they knew there was something dangerous around? And if something dangerous was around in this world, it could be anything from wolves to dragons.

Just to be on the safe side, Emma bent down to pick up a broken branch.

She froze when cold, sharp metal pressed against her neck. 

"Put it down," Snow White murmured. "Nice and easy."

Emma spread her hands, heart pounding. Snow White patted her down, checking her for weapons. She found the purse and as Emma hoped, tucked it away into her clothing. "I'm not here to cause trouble," she said, as her cellphone was taken, examined, and thrown aside. "I'm here to help you."

"I've heard that before," the other woman said with a snort. "Turn around. Let me see who I'm dealing with."

Emma took a quivering breath and turned. She could have disarmed her mother, but with a knife in the mix, it was safer not to risk it. She didn't know how capable Snow White was, compared to Mary Margaret, but if her right hook was anything to go by, she would be formidable. 

"You!" Snow White exclaimed.

Emma kept her hands raised and open at shoulder height and smiled awkwardly. "Yeah. Um. Hi. Sorry about interrupting your robbery."

Snow White's green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want?" she asked, lowering the blade enough not to be a direct threat, but visible enough to make it clear she wasn't afraid to use it.

Emma came up short. That part, she realised, she hadn't thought about.

"Bandit's code?" she suggested hopefully. "It was your job. I shouldn't have cut in."

Snow White stared at her in disbelief. "So you come wandering through the forest to find me and tell me sorry for stealing my share?"

"And to give you it back," Emma said.

Snow White slid her blade into a sheath at her hip, then pulled the purse out of her vest, looking at it. "This?" She flipped it open, poking through the contents, then closed it over and tossed it back to Emma. "No, thanks."

Emma caught it clumsily. "What? But it's yours!"

"Just because I live out in the forest doesn't mean I'm an idiot," Snow White said. "I'm a thief. I know other thieves. We don't just give up our prizes without a reason." She nodded to the purse in Emma's hand. "That looks like bait for a trap."

"It's not, I swear to God," Emma said urgently. "Look, Snow, I'm a friend..."

The minute she said her mother's name, she knew it was a mistake.

Snow White's expression hardened. "You should get back where you came from," she said and she turned, striding away through the trees, pushing through low branches. "Tell the ones who sent you that they can keep coming after me, but they won't find me." She ducked beneath a trailing willow, the long branches whipping in the breeze.

"Wait!" Emma ran after her, but less than dozen paces further in, Snow White had vanished as if she had never been there. Emma whirled around, searching for the other woman, but her eyes were city eyes and all she could see was forest, forest and more forest. "Aw, crap," she groaned. 

So much for simple.


	3. Chapter 3

It was raining again, and Rumpelstiltskin wasn't answering her call. 

Emma had attempted to lash some branches together to make a shelter. No matter how easy it looked in the movies, it wasn't working. She pulled her coat tighter around her, huddling at the foot of a tree. She wasn't as wet as she could have been, but the idea of getting a cold in a land without healthcare sounded like a bad idea.

She was tired and she was hungry, and it was hours since she had lost Snow White. All attempts to get her bearings had fallen flat. She tried to track the other woman, remembering the way Graham used to be able to glance at a path and tell if someone had gone that way, but all she saw were leaves and dirt and twigs.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Yelling in the middle of a forest wasn't achieving anything, but she remembered enough stories to know he came when he was called.

If he was ignoring her, she added it to a long list of reasons to kick his ass when she got home. 

Emma tugged out the photograph of her parents and her son, touching the outline of his face. He looked so happy. She wondered if he was missing her, or if that whole world had just come to a standstill in her timeline. Maybe he was searching for her like she was searching for her parents.

I will find you.

It wasn't exactly the greatest motto to live by.

She'd spent her whole life looking for her parents, and now, she was doing it all over again. 

"Why couldn't it be simple?" she asked the picture quietly. "Why couldn't you just be some boring suburban couple or teenage sweethearts or something?" 

Raindrops trickled through the leaves above her, dropping onto the photo. She wiped it on her shirt, then frowned. It was impossible, but it looked like she had wiped some of Henry's shoulder away. She tilted the image to the watery daylight, staring in dismay. It wasn't just his shoulder either. His whole arm was fading.

If he was fading, then she had changed the past too much. If she didn't undo it, he would continue to vanish. She wrapped her hand around the Sheriff's badge, a physical reminder of that world. As long as she had the badge, that world still existed. She could pretend it didn't feel smaller in her hand.

A rustle in the bushes nearby made her scramble upright in alarm. "Who's there? Rumpelstiltskin?"

The branches parted and her mother stepped through, tossing a heavy leather coat to her. "Put that on," she said. "You'll catch your death if you don't."

Emma stared at her, wrapping the coat around herself and shoving the photograph back into her pocket. "I thought you wanted me to go."

"I do," Snow White said, folding her arms. "But I'm not the kind of person to let a stranger catch pneumonia because she's too foolish to find a shelter in a storm." She jerked her head. "Come with me. I'll take you somewhere dry until the storm breaks."

Emma nodded gratefully. "Thanks," she said. "I'm not a forest person."

"Really?" Snow White said dryly. "I couldn't tell." 

She set off through the bushes without waiting to see if Emma followed. She moved like a cat, light-footed and silent, and Emma felt like a clumsy child crashing after her. The ground was thick with wet mud, leaves and fallen branches, and Emma kept catching herself, almost falling. 

"If I ask you who you are," Snow White said without looking back, "would you tell me?"

"If I did, you wouldn't believe me," Emma replied, pulling her foot free of a muddy pool. "Hell, I wouldn't believe me."

Ahead of her Snow White paused, turned. "Before we go any further, who sent you?" Her hand was resting casually on the grip of a dagger at her waist. They were deep enough into the forest that Emma knew she would have no chance if she tried to run, even if she wanted to. 

"No one," she replied, meeting Snow White's eyes, holding her gaze. "I'm doing what I have to for my son. I can't let him down."

Snow White watched her for a moment, then turned and started further down the hill. She led Emma around a curve at the base and gestured to a cavern. There was a fire burning in it, but not much else. It wasn't a hiding place, and Emma knew it wasn't Snow's base.

"This place will give you somewhere to shelter," she said. "But don't come looking for me again."

"Wait!" Emma said, as the woman started past her. She reached for the purse at her belt. "Can't I at least repay you?"

Snow White snorted. "I'm sparing you," she said. "Consider the lack of blood on my blade recompense enough."

Emma was too startled to say anything more as Snow White disappeared off into the rain-drenched forest. Mary Margaret had been so mild-mannered and quiet, but Snow White was the opposite. If this was how tough and self-reliant she was before, no wonder the curse had seemed so terrible.

Emma retreated to the fire, sitting down and holding her hands out to the flames to warm her. Night was coming, fast and cold, and she knew it would be pointless going to look for Snow White again in the dark, if at all. If Snow didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

The heavy coat around her was warm, and her eyes felt heavy.

She knew she should be doing something, anything, to get home, but with rain lashing outside the cave and Snow White long gone, the only thing she could really do was rest and wait for the morning. She curled down on her side, tucking her arm under her head, and closed her eyes. 

 

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As rude awakenings went, being dragged out of a cave by her ankles, kicking and swearing, was pretty high up the list.

She was sent sprawling in the mud, and didn't need to raise her head to see metal-clad feet all around her. Knights and lots of them. She rolled onto her side and pushed herself up on her elbow, only to feel the cold press of metal just behind her ear.

"Don't move, Swan."

She recognised King George's voice instantly. "What's going on?" she demanded, her voice low. "What do you want with me?"

"Chatty, isn't she?" A female voice, this one just as familiar. "You're sure she's the girl?"

A booted foot flipped Emma onto her back, and she found herself under the gaze of King George and Regina. The Queen looked nothing like she did in Storybrooke. Her clothing was extravagant and over-the-top, her hair a towering mass studded with gems and feathers. But the smile, scarlet-lipped and poisonous, was the same.

"I'm sure," King George said, his sword settling at the hollow of Emma's throat. "There were rumours Snow White was working with a fair-haired bandit. My son can't see past a pretty face, but it can't be coincidence that some small treasures of mine walked out the door when she did."

"I didn't steal anything," Emma snarled, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Ask the Prince."

"Oh, I would," King George said, smiling thinly. "If only he wasn't hunting you to try and get back the purse you took from him. He's such a sentimental boy." He nodded curtly and two men hauled Emma up onto her feet, her pants and shirt slick with mud. "Regina would like to ask you some questions."

"I bet she would," Emma snapped, struggling against the grip of the two soldiers. "Whatever they are, she can shove them up her..."

King George struck her in a savage backhand that made her head snap around.

Emma grimaced, spitting a wad of blood out onto the mud. "So that's how it's going to be, huh?" she said, turning her eyes back to the King. "Tell me, do you only hit women when they're restrained or am I just lucky?"

He moved as if he would strike her again, but Regina raised a hand to the level of her chest, one finger upraised. She was smiling, as if Emma had performed an amusing trick. "I like this one," she said. "She has fire." She stepped a little closer, gathering up her flowing skirts to avoid the worst of the mud. "Tell me, my dear, how highly do you value your life?"

Emma stared at her, the woman who had not yet cast the curse. If she played weak, then broke loose and took Regina out now, then the curse would never have happened, she could be raised by her parents and be a regular kid in the fairytale world. 

But Henry...

"Screw you," Emma said succinctly.

Regina's smile remained in place, but turned a shade darker. "Oh, now, now," she said, curling her fingers. It felt like bands of metal wrapped around Emma from shoulder to wrist, holding her rigid. "I was being so polite. There's no need for ill manners."

"Oh yeah?" Emma gritted out through clenched teeth. She took a deep breath. The bands of magic loosened around her, and that was enough to make Regina take a step back, frowning. She gestured to one of the soldier and Emma glowered at her. "Cut the crap. What do you want?"

"Oh, that's simple," Regina said, the smile returning as one of the soldiers put his blade back to Emma's neck. "I want Snow White. You two were seen together."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Emma said, glaring at her. "I'm travelling here. I don't know any Snow White."

"Travelling, yes, judging on your clothing," Regina murmured, watching her, "but I think you're lying."

Emma leaned forward against the restraining hands of the soldiers. "Think what you like," she said. "I don't know her and I don't know where she is."

Regina's mouth curved up at one side. "She? Who said it was a she?"

Emma wanted to kick herself. "Wild guess," she said, scowling.

Regina curled a finger along Emma's cheek. "So you do know her," she said. "Now, you have a choice, my dear. Tell me everything you know willingly, or I'll be forced to... unpleasantness."

Emma jerked her head away from Regina's hand and glared savagely at her. "Screw. You."

The Queen chuckled. "You really aren't doing well to endear yourself to anyone," she said. 

"My men will beat her, if you wish it," King George said. "Any woman would be willing to talk after a good beating."

Emma turned to look at him. Her face still ached where he had struck her. "What makes you think I'm just any woman, George?" she said coldly. "Beat me all you like. I won't tell you anything."

The King's expression was thunderous, but Regina waved him away, smiling a strange, amused little smile. "I would listen if I were you," she murmured, her eyes running over Emma's face. "This one is more than she seems." She glanced around the forest. "Scour the area. If you find Snow, you know what to do. If not... well, I will take this Swan to my palace and find out just what secrets she holds."

Emma started to struggle in earnest. "The hell you will," she snapped, jerking and thrashing against the guards.

Regina nodded and something struck her from behind. Emma sagged to her knees. She swayed there, her arms gripped in the tight hold of the soldiers, the only thing holding her upright. She squinted beyond them, and hidden in the trees, she glimpsed Snow White's pale, horrified face. Snow started to rise.

With all the energy she could muster, Emma shook her head. With one limp hand, she gestured for Snow White to stay down. It would do none of them any good if Snow White was caught. 

"Take her to my carriage," Regina ordered. "It's been a while since I had a new toy."

Another blow knocked Emma into blackness. 

 

_____________________________________________________

 

 

Someone was sponging her brow.

Emma winced, pain stabbing through her head as she forced her eyes open. She was in a dark room, with barely a sliver of light from a window high in the wall. The night sky was barely visible "Who's there?"

"Just a friend." It was barely even recognisable as a voice. "A fellow prisoner."

Emma started to sit up, but shackles were closed around her wrists, chaining her to the bed. "Where are we?"

"The Queen's castle," the prisoner whispered hoarsely. "Her Majesty has locked you up." The voice was different, but there was something in the tone, and she recognised it immediately.

"Regina," she whispered. 

"Yes, yes," the prisoner said. "Regina, the Queen."

"No," Emma said, shaking her head, despite the pain jarring through her. "You. You're Regina."

Candles flared to life nearby, and illuminated Regina's features. She was dressed in rags, and the last flickers of a masking spell were slipping from her face. She looked both amused and annoyed. "Well, well," she said. "Not many see through my enchantments, especially in the dark."

Emma strained against the restraints. "Let me go."

"I hardly think so, dear," Regina said, shaking her head. "Not when you have so much useful knowledge." She brushed strands of hair back from Emma's cheek. "Tell me, Lady Swan, what do you know about Snow White?"

Emma clenched her fists, turning her head away from Regina's touch. "I know you must hate her a hell of a lot to make such a big deal about her," she said. "But I don't know her. The first time I met her, she hit me, and the second time, she threatened me with a knife. All I know is that she let me live."

"And you were just strolling around the area of the forest she haunts?"

Emma thought quickly. The Queen and Rumpelstiltskin were enemies, as far as she had been able to tell from Rumpelstiltskin's behaviour in the shop when he had sent them after the bottled true love. "Rumpelstiltskin," she said. "He was meant to help me and he abandoned me there. He's probably the one who spread the stories about me being a bandit."

"Convenient," Regina said, unimpressed. "The truth, now."

Emma glared at her. "Fine," she said. "You want the truth? The truth is that I'm Snow White's daughter, sent from the future, and I went to find my mother, because only she can help me reunite my parents, so I'm born to give birth to the son who you'll adopt in about twenty years."

Regina stared at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

Emma dropped her head back against the straw-filled pillow. "I'm true love," she said wryly, then looked at Regina. "And you're Regina, daughter of the Miller’s daughter, one time wife of Leopold. There are other names people call you, but nothing I'd repeat in polite company. Bitch is one of them. Murderer too."

Shock was giving way to fury on Regina's face, the colour draining from her. "You talk too much," she whispered, through lips pressed hard together.

"You wanted the truth," Emma retorted, jerking her wrists against the chains. 

"You know idle gossip," Regina snapped. "Tell me where to find her and I may consider letting you go."

Emma laughed sharply. "You want some carrot to go with that stick?" she demanded. "Undo the damned cuffs."

Regina drew back, staring at her. Her fingers were twitching in front of her. "You may have an overactive imagination and more than your fair share of insolence," she said quietly, "but you have also got power."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, struggling against the shackles. "So everyone keeps telling me. Well, it would be kind of useful if I could do anything with it."

"Don't worry, dear." Regina was suddenly kneeling over her on the bed, one hand pressed to Emma's chest, pinning her down against the bed. "I'll make good use of it." She smiled her blood-red smile. "And of you."

Emma screamed as Regina's hand sank into her chest.


	4. Chapter 4

Regina hurtled through the air and collided with the wall on the far side of the cell.

Emma gasped raggedly, lifting a hand to her brow. It felt like something had burst out of her, her skin tingling from head to toe. It took her a moment to notice that her cuffs had fallen away like sand, dissolved. She looked across the room at Regina, who was recoiling back against the wall. She looked shocked, terrified.

"What are you?" she demanded hoarsely.

Emma couldn't reply. She was out of breath, as if she had been running, and even sitting up felt like a labour. Magic. She had just done magic. She didn't know how or what, but her blood was pounding in her ears, and she knew that if she could control it, she could be free in moments.

But that was the problem. 

Regina seemed to realise it too, and was out of the door in an instant.

Emma managed to sit up as the bolts clanged into place, locking her up again. Her chest ached where Regina had tried to get to her heart. Whatever the magic was that was inside her, she had protected herself with it. It was too much for Regina to try and take, and she had stopped her. She tugged the front of her shirt away from her skin and looked down warily. There wasn't even a mark, even though Regina's hand had been knuckle-deep in her torso. 

"I hate magic," she whispered raggedly, rubbing her chest.

Her Sheriff's badge was nudging into her leg and she took it from her belt to look at it. The points of the star were wearing away, as if someone had been scraping it against a file. If the badge was fading, that wasn't good. She groped in her pocket for the photograph, then swore when her hand met nothing but pocket.

The photograph was gone.

It must have fallen out when she was struggling against the King's men.

Emma punched the straw mattress in frustration. If it was gone, then she had no idea how bad things were. If it was gone, maybe Henry had completely disappeared already. She fought down the hot tears at the thought of a life without Henry. If he hadn't existed, then what was the point of fighting to get back to that life? She would never have found Storybrooke without him. She would never have broken the curse.

She turned the badge over in her hand. 

If it was still there, if it was still solid, there was still a chance.

As long as there was a chance, she knew she had to fight her way out and get back to her son.

With effort, she stumbled to her feet. Her head still felt light, but it felt better to be active. She approached the door, bracing her hands against it, and tried to reach for the magic. She could feel it now, like a ripple in the air, but it was as easy to catch as a breath of wind. 

"Come on," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Come on."

She tried to focus on Henry, remembering his face, his smile, how proud he would be if he knew she could do magic. Her skin felt too tight and she was trembling, sweat soaking through the back of her shirt, but it was like trying to push a square peg through a round hole.

If she'd been raised in a world of magic, she knew it would have been easier.

Panting, she stumbled back to the low bed and sat down, turning the star over and over in her hands. 

It was strange, she thought, that it all started when she made a wish on a star-shaped candle.

Emma's breath caught.

A wish. A wish on a star.

She looked up at the window high in the wall. It was barely wide enough for her to wedge her arm through, but she could see the night sky outside. She dragged the low bed over to the wall and clambered up onto it, pressing her face as close to the window as possible, searching sky. There were stars, but she didn't know which was the right one.

She remembered all the stories she had grown up with, all the tales, and the most powerful wishes were the ones you didn't say. She closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the window, and wished with all her heart for some way to be free.

"A powerful wish." The voice that spoke was familiar, but softer, bright.

Emma's eyes flew open. Just outside of the window, she could see a tiny, shimmering figure. It had wings and gave off a strange, ethereal blue glow. "Blue fairy," she whispered. It was one thing to be told that fairies existed, but another thing to see them. 

"I am, child," the fairy replied, gazing at her, "but I don't know you."

"No, you wouldn't," Emma said with a rueful smile. "Can you bust me out of here?"

The fairy shook her head. "The Queen's power is burned into the walls of this castle," she said apologetically. "Fairy magic has its limits. You are not the first to call on me from within these walls." She drew closer. "But you are the first I have been able to reach. You have power of your own, child."

Emma rested her head against the upper window ledge. "But you can't help me get out?"

"I can't help you escape," the fairy replied, "but if you have another wish?"

Emma lifted her head. "I wish for someone friendly to help me get out. You can send someone in right?"

The fairy's eyes shone. "Oh yes, I can do that," she said. Her wand whirled through the air, leaving a trail of starlight. "Your heart will call out to them and they will find you."

"Find me?" Emma couldn't help laugh shakily. "Yeah. Sounds like them." She turned sharply at the sound of heavy, metallic footfalls in the hall. "You should go. If the guards are anything like George's soldiers, you don't want to piss them off."

"Call on me again, when you are free," the fairy said. "I would speak with you."

Emma nodded with a tight smile. If Rumpelstiltskin couldn't get her home, maybe the Blue Fairy had some ruby slippers or something. "You got it." She jumped down from the bed, and was standing in the middle of the floor, fists balled, when the hatch in her door creaked open. 

"Back up against the wall," the guard said tersely. She couldn't make out his face through the grill, his helmet hiding his features. 

"Or what?" Emma retorted, pacing from side to side. 

"I can't bring you your food if you don't back up."

Reluctantly, Emma retreated to the back of the cell, and heard the bolts sliding free. If there was just one guard, she could take him down, and if she could take him down, then she could steal his clothes and get out into the castle. That's what heroes were meant to do, right?

He pushed the door open with one hand, and he had a bowl of some kind of gruel in the other hand. That was his mistake, leaving himself unarmed.

Emma flew at him, tackling him hard across the midriff. Her full weight was behind the charge and it was enough to throw him back three paces and back into the hall. She could have fled, and her hesitation was a split-second, but it was enough for him to throw the bowl aside and catch her by the arm.

His armour made his movements clumsy, but he had a hard grip on her, and she cursed through her teeth as her elbow rammed at his chainmail-covered belly. His head. She had to uncover his head. It was the easiest part to get to. She twisted and jerked in his grip, spitting curses, and clawed at the helmet, tearing it off. It clattered away down the hall and she managed to tear his hood aside and catch him by the throat, slamming him hard against the wall.

One of his hands was still gripping her upper arm, and she could taste blood on her lips, but her fingers trembled at the guard's throat.

"Graham?" she whispered.

Her grip was loose enough that he broke free and bundled her back into the cell, slamming the door behind him. He pressed back against the door, watching her warily. He had Graham's face, but this man wasn't Graham, not as she'd known him, not as she'd so very nearly loved him. 

"You shouldn't have done that," he said hoarsely. She could see bruises at his throat from her fingers. "If the Queen knows you're still fighting, she'll send more men next time."

Emma could barely take in what he was saying. It was Graham. It was Graham before the curse. The Huntsman. The man who had been paid to kill Snow White, but instead had taken her place. I have no heart, she remembered. She pressed her hand to her chest. He had no heart. No wonder, if the Queen had taken it, imprisoned him and made him hers. 

She felt tears pricking in her eyes, remembering the way he smiled at her, the way he touched her cheek, the way he kissed her. She crossed the floor in three paces and before he could realise her intention, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as hard as she could. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered close to his cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

His hands were hovering awkwardly above her shoulders. Fighting her, he could cope with, but he seemed afraid of the simple intimacy of a hug. He caught her shoulders, pushed her back, staring at her guardedly. He wasn't Graham, not at all, but he would be, and she could see it in his eyes. 

"Do I know you?" he asked.

It was strange how much four words could hurt more than a blow. 

She couldn't help lifting her hand to touch his cheek. "Not yet," she said, her voice shaking, "but you will."

He pushed her back a little further, keeping her at arm's length. She must sound crazy, she realised. Crazy and hugging him like they were friends. All the same, she grasped his forearm. 

"You're here to help me," she said. "The Blue fairy sent you."

He shook his head, frowning. "I think you're confusing me with someone else."

"I'm not," she said, certain. "God, of all the people I wished I could see again, I never thought I'd see you." She couldn't keep the smile from her face. "Not after..." Her eyes widened, as a realisation hit her. Regina had killed him because she had his heart. It wasn't a heart attack. She stepped closer to him, urgently. "You have to get me out of here. I can save you."

The look on his face was heartbreaking. "You don't know who you're dealing with," he said, shaking his head. "Your intentions might be good, but she's powerful."

Emma smiled grimly. "I've beaten her once. I can do it again," she said. "All you have to do is let me out of here." She reached up to grasp his shoulders. "I know you don't know me, but please, trust me. I can help you."

He stared at her, wary. she remembered Henry's book, the Huntsman's tale. She could see the wildness in his eyes. This was a man who didn't deal with people, who didn't trust people, who had sacrificed his freedom for her mother. Words wouldn't work for him. Even in Storybrooke, he had spoke with actions more than words.

She ran her hand along his forearm soothingly, then stepped closer, into his personal space. His hands were shaking on her shoulders, and she could almost believe she heard him growl in warning. She pressed her cheek to his, then nuzzled at his hair. He smelled the same. Sweat and nature and him. Her eyes stung. His fingers bit into her shoulders, and she felt his breath catch. 

"Who are you?" he breathed against her ear.

"You'll find out," she replied, drawing back. Her hands were warm on his shoulders and she looked him in the eyes. "Trust me."

The man who wasn't Graham but was stared at her for a long time. Then all at once, he was moving. His hand was around her wrist, the door was open and he was leading her out into the darkness of the castle. 

For all that Graham had looked awkward in the streets of Storybrooke, when he moved with intent, he moved like a true hunter. When he went still, she stopped. When he moved, she followed on light feet. More than once, their paths almost crossed the paths of other guards and he pulled her back into shadows, a hand over her mouth until they were alone again. 

"Where are we going?" she whispered, as they pressed back into an alcove. 

She could see his profile against the dim light of the hall. "I'm getting you out," he replied.

"No," she said, her voice low. "Out the cell was the plan." She stepped close to him, pressing one hand to his chest. "This. Where is it?"

There was no heartbeat. Not even the echo of one. He was staring at her like a captive animal, and if she hadn't been in his path, she could believe he would have bolted. 

"If you go there, she'll kill you," he whispered, his hand wrapping around her wrist. 

She looked down at his hand, then back up at her face. "I think there's something worse than death in that room," she said quietly. "What I need is a distraction. Something that would lure her away from the room." She grinned suddenly. "Go and tell her that Snow White is at the gates."

"You know Snow?"

Emma couldn't help laughing quietly. "You could say that," she said. She drew her wrist from his hand, catching his fingers with her own. "Trust me. Tell me which way to go, then go and distract people."

He searched her face in the pale light, then nodded, giving her directions to his heart. It came as no surprise at all to find out that the Evil Queen had a vault of hearts in her dressing room. "Beware of the mirrors," he added. "She has eyes on every wall. If she believes she has been tricked..."

"Make it a convincing diversion," she said with a grin. 

He shook his head, gazing at her. "Why are you doing this?"

She smiled at him crookedly. "I can't even begin to tell you," she said. She hesitated, then leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek, before running out into the hall. She hadn’t blushed since she was fourteen, but she was pretty sure her face was telling another story.

It took a while.

Wherever it was, the palace was huge and a lot of the corridors looked the same.

She heard bells ringing, and ducked back into another pillared alcove as a troop of guards rushed through the hall. She must have been close, because she heard Regina’s voice calling out after them.

“Find her and hold her!”

She heard the clacking of Regina’s boots striding down the hall after her men, and the swish of skirts trailing on the floor. Emma pressed back into the shadows, holding her breath, wishing she could make herself invisible or something even a little bit useful.

Regina paused so close to her hiding place that Emma was sure she had been spotted. The Queen was frowning, looking around, then sighed impatiently and strode onwards.

Only when her footsteps had faded did Emma emerge from the alcove, looking around warily, the broke into a run towards the last corridor that the Huntsman said led to the centre of Regina’s domain.

Mirrors lined the walls, so she ducked as low as she could and darted along, watching warily in the frames above her. A face darted from frame to frame, but it didn’t seem to notice her. All the same, the hall felt like it was a mile long by the time, and her hands were damp with sweat by the time she reached the grand chamber. 

Emma straightened up cautiously. The mirror on the dresser was clear and the only other one in the room was a hand mirror lying face down. Just to be on the safe side, she ran over and draped a shawl over the dresser. It probably wouldn’t help, but it would keep her from being spied on when she broke in.

Once that was done, she looked around. 

The vault was hidden in the walls, according to the Huntsman, and probably had some kind of secret mechanism. Emma ran her hands over the wall facing the window, searching for some hint of an opening. The Huntsman, no, Graham, was counting on her, and she wouldn’t and couldn’t let him down. If she found it, if he lived…

She remembered his kiss, the warm rush of happiness that flooded her, and reached out with every fibre of her being.

Somewhere, deep inside her, the magic flared and the wall hissed open, revealing something that looked like a room full of safety deposit boxes.

Emma’s fingers twitched. She didn’t know how many of the boxes were full, or if the Huntsman had been Regina’s only prey. She guessed there were others. Why have so many chambers, if she wasn’t going to use them?

“Give it back to me,” she whispered fiercely, looking around the wall of chests. “Give me back what’s mine.”


	5. Chapter 5

The heart glowed like a jewel.

When the box slid out of the wall of the vault, Emma hadn't dared to believe she had the right thing, but when she opened it, she knew there was no mistake. The Huntsman's heart pulsed softly, and when she reached into the chest and took it in her trembling hand, it was warm.

"Got you," she whispered, cradling it gently. She pushed the small chest back into its place, hoping that Regina wouldn't notice anything was missing. If she had so many hearts, how was she meant to notice that one of them had mysteriously disappeared?

Emma retreated back into Regina's chambers, looking around for something to carry the heart in. It was too fragile to carry around in her hands, not to mention it felt kind of gross. There was a small box that must have once been a jewellery box, dusty with neglect, so Emma snatched it up, tucking the heart safely away in the velvet-lining.

A crash from the hall made her whirl around and she froze at the sight of Regina stalking towards the chamber, the box hidden beneath her jacket.

"Show me!" The Queen was clearly furious. "Show me the boundaries!"

She walked straight past Emma and to the covered dressing table, where the paused, frowning. Emma held her breath, not daring to move. If she had somehow gone unnoticed, there had to be magic at play. She tightened her grip on the chest as Regina plucked the shawl from the mirror, studying it.

"Someone has been here..." Regina leaned forward, grasping the frame. "Did you see someone?"

A face swam in the surface of the glass. "No one has been here, my Queen. A breeze blew the shawl over the surface."

Emma stared. Sidney. Of course. Who else would follow Regina around like a kicked puppy. She edged sideways towards the door, hardly daring to breathe. She was almost out into the hall when Regina made a sound of dismissal and tapped the glass.

"I want to see the boundaries. They got in somewhere, and I want to make sure they don't get out."

The mirror's face blurred and shifted. "Snow White?"

"Three guards unconscious on the lower level," Regina snapped. "She knows her way around the palace, the little brat. She's managed to avoid the guards."

Emma bit down on a grin. The Huntsman's diversion was working, and she was doing some kind of magic to keep herself unseen. She edged towards the door, and had one foot over the threshold when a wave of coldness washed over her, making her gasp aloud.

"Leaving so soon, dear?" Regina said without turning.

Emma tried to move, but her feet felt rooted to the floor. "So you can see me."

Regina turned on the stool, looking at her, an intrigued expression on her face. "It took a moment to pull off that shield you had in place, but this is my house and my rules are absolute," she said, rising. "Tell me, dear, did you summon your fellow bandit or is she showing loyalty for a change?"

"I didn't summon anyone," Emma said. She pulled against the power holding her down. It was like walking through quicksand: it was possible to move but it was exhausting. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was trying to escape and I got lost."

Regina snapped her fingers and the mirror shimmered. Snow White and Prince James appeared, back to back, both wielding swords, and just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone, disappearing into shadows. 

"I don't know the boy," Regina said, stalking towards Emma, "but they're somewhere in my palace, and I can't help thinking you're the reason."

Emma scowled at her, willing her to come closer. "Not my problem," she said. "Like I said, I don't know them."

Regina put her head to one side. "You really aren't a very good liar, dear."

Emma leaned closer. "You really want to know who I am?" she whispered. "You want to know what the deal is?"

Regina's fingers twitched and she prowled closer. "I'll find out sooner or later," she murmured, "but it would be so much easier if you told me."

"I don't want your mirrors to know," Emma lowered her voice, and Regina leaned closer. Emma headbutted her as hard as she could. Regina dropped like a rock and the magic binding Emma fell away. She rubbed her forehead with a wince, stumbling out into the hall. 

"Help!" Sidney's voice yelled from the mirrors lining the hall. "Help! Help! The Queen has been assaulted! HELP!"

"Will you shut up!" Emma yelled back at him. 

The mirror's mouth kept moving but no sound came out.

"Huh." Emma grinned. "Good mirror."

She wrapped her arms more securely around the box containing the Huntsman's heart and raced back down the corridors. There were dozens of them, turning off in all directions, but the Huntsman had given her clear directions, ducking in and out between pillars to avoid the swarming guards. 

There were suits of armour lining one of the halls she passed through, so she grabbed a sword. It wouldn't do much good, since the only thing she really knew about handling swords was that the pointy end was meant to go into the other person, but it felt better to be armed when there were so many enemies around. 

She darted down a long corridor, keeping as close to the wall as she could.

It was either luck or magic that kept her path clear, until she ran short of both and straight into a group of four guards. They looked at her in surprise, and she looked back.

"Uh. Hi. I'm looking for the exit?"

The four guards exchanged looks, then charged at her as one.

"Crap!" she yelped, swinging up the sword as hard as she could. She had a feeling you weren't meant to squeeze your eyes shut when faced with four swords coming towards you, but no one hit her and she heard a distant crash of metal on stone and cracked one eye open.

All four guards were scattered down the far end of the hall in a twitching, groaning heap.

"You know." Someone spoke behind her, making her whirl around, sword up. Snow White was standing there, an amused look on her face, "I'm starting to think she didn't need us to come and rescue her after all."

Emma lowered her sword. "Snow White?"

"Well-spotted," her mother said, beckoning her. "Come on. We need to get out of here. Hey! Charming! Get up here!"

The Prince dashed through the door at the end of the hall, slamming it closed and sliding bolts into place to hold it. "More guards are on the way," he said, then nodded at Emma. "Sheriff Swan."

Emma waved her sword sheepishly. "Hey."

Snow White sheathed her own sword. "Chat later," she said. "We need to get out now. I know a shortcut."

"Wait," Emma said, as they started past her. "I need to find the Huntsman."

"He let us in," Snow White said. "He said if you got what you were looking for, take it with you. He said you would be able to protect it." She looked at Emma. "Do you know what that means?"

Emma hugged the box under her arm tightly. "Yeah," she said in a hoarse voice. "I don't want to leave him here."

"He doesn't want you to stay," Prince James said. "Sheriff, we have to go."

Emma nodded reluctantly, falling into step behind Snow White. The bandit pushed open a panel in the wall, which led into a narrow corridor. She stepped in, motioning for Emma to follow her. 

"Stay close," she said, "and when I stop, stop." 

It was a tight squeeze with all three of them piled into the hidden passage, and the sounds of their breathing was deafening in the enclosed space. Sandwiched between her parents, Emma wondered if they could hear the pounding of her heart. It felt like it was trying to break the landspeed record. 

"Does Regina know about these places?" she asked in as low a whisper as she could. 

Snow White shook her head. "She never bothered to learn the palace's secrets," she murmured. She froze, holding up a hand for silence and Emma reached behind her, passing the motion to the Prince, who stopped in his tracks. As solid as the walls might appear, they allowed sound through clearly.

"I want them found! I want their heads on spikes on the wall! That little brat has gone too far this time."

Emma rolled her eyes, glancing sidelong at Snow White. The Princess was staring blindly at the wall, but there was a look of sorrow in her eyes that took Emma's breath away. Regina had raised her, she remembered. Regina had been her stepmother. Snow must have loved her once.

They were still and silent until the voices and footfalls faded away. 

"This way," Snow White whispered.

They continued in silence through passages and corridors, down stairs then up again, until they reached a nondescript door. Snow White drew a breath, then pushed against it with all her strength. It gave an inch and a time Fresh air flooded the stuffy corridor. "Stay here," Snow white said, then slipped out, drawing her sword.

Emma shifted from foot to foot, then glanced awkwardly at her father. "Sorry about your purse," she said. "I'll get it back to you as soon as we're out of here."

"Rumpelstiltskin let me know you were the one to take it." One side of his mouth turned up. "I think it was worth it. Never thought it would be so much fun breaking into the Queen's fortress." He looked beyond her at the opening. "She's a tough one, that Snow White."

"You have no idea," Emma said with a crooked smile.

Snow White poked her head back in the doorway. "We're clear," she said.

They emerged through a thick tangle of ivy into a forest. The place was wild, with briars and bushes towering around them on all sides. Emma grimaced. Running through a building, she could cope with.

"Do we have far to go?" she asked.

"Far enough," Snow said, sheathing her sword. "She'll have her hunters out soon enough. If we're lucky, our Huntsman will be the one to come after us."

Emma looked down at the box in her hand. "I hope so," she said.

They set off in silence, Snow White leading the way. If these had been her lands, Emma knew the woman must know the area better than anyone. The Princess walked like a predator, finding paths that Emma wouldn't have spotted, leading them deeper and deeper into the forest and away from the palace.

They hid in a gully as soldiers thundered by on horseback, and took a moment to catch their breath. The hiding place was small and they were all but piled on top of one another.

"Why did you come after me?" Emma asked quietly, looking from one of them to the other.

"You didn't turn me over to Regina," Snow White said. "You could have. Saved your own skin."

Emma shook her head. "Couldn't," she said. "You're too important to let her get to you."

Prince James and her mother exchanged looks.

"You know who we are, somewhere else," the Prince said. "Don't you?"

Emma nodded wearily. It had been a long couple of days. 

Snow White reached inside her tunic and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Snow offered it to her, and Emma bit her lip at the sight of the photograph of herself and Henry, flanked by her parents. Snow was on her left in the photograph, and the ring on her wedding finger was clearly visible.

"Are those people... us?" Snow White said quietly. "Really us?"

Emma took the photograph in trembling fingers. Henry's arm was still half-visible, but it was clearer than it had been. It was fading back in. "They are," she whispered. "In a different time and a different place, but yeah. They're you." She looked at Snow White. "I-I can't tell you everything. It's all too complicated, and it could change things, but you have to trust me. I'm not your enemy."

"I believe you," Snow White said, giving Emma's arm a warm squeeze. "You saved me."

"Where did she get that ring?" The Prince was still looking at the photograph, and Emma looked at him.

It took some wriggling to get her father's pouch from her pocket, but she tugged it out and held it out to him. "You know where."

James opened up the pouch, withdrawing the ring and staring at it, then looked across Emma at Snow.

Snow White stared back at him, then broke into a grin. "You've got to be kidding," she said, her face alight with amusement. "You call that a proposal?"

The Prince blushed. "I didn't say that," he said.

Snow White shook her head, laughing. "Come on," she said, getting to her feet. "We need to get clear of these lands and back to my part of the forest, then you can go your own ways." She hesitated, then offered Emma her hand. "Do you know how to get home?"

"I have an idea," Emma admitted, "but I'll need to get help."

James scrambled to his feet. "Is there anything we can do?" He stepped up onto the higher ground, offering one hand to Snow, who shot him an amused look, but accepted his hand and let him haul her up. 

Emma couldn't help smiling at that, as she climbed up after them. "Just keep doing what you're doing," she said, "and I think things'll go okay."


	6. Chapter 6

At the edge of the forest, Emma and her parents went their separate ways.

There was a road at least, so she started down it, her father at her side.

"Where do you need to get to?" he asked.

Emma looked at him with a rueful smile. "You know where," she said. "He may be an asshole, but he's the asshole who can help me."

The Prince grimaced. "I hope you know what you're doing."

She shot him an amused look. "I introduced you to Snow White," she said. "That's what I set out to do."

"And the being taken captive part?"

"That wasn't exactly part of the plan," she admitted. She looked around the forest around them. "Do you know how to get back to Rumpelstiltskin's castle from here?"

"You simply need to ask."

Both of them stopped dead and turned on the spot.

He was standing less than ten paces behind them, a smug little smile on his face. 

"I hate it when he does that," Emma said, looking at her father.

"You and me both," the Prince said, his eyes on Rumpelstiltskin, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Rumpelstiltskin."

Rumpelstiltskin bowed extravagantly. "Your Highness," he said mockingly. "I see you have your lovely jewels back." He clasped his hands before his chest. "And our noble Sheriff Swan. Successful in your endeavours, were you?"

"No thanks to you," she said, hand on her hip.

"Quite the contrary, my dear," he said, skipping towards them. "Peril, you see. It's a remarkable thing. It makes people fight alongside the most unexpected of allies." He grinned at her. "Much better than chasing a bandit through the woods, trying to play at being friends, hmm?"

"Yeah, because being taken hostage and tortured is my idea of a good time," Emma snorted. She glanced at her father. "It's okay. I can go from here."

"You sure?" He was watching Rumpelstiltskin with suspicion.

Emma nodded. "I can't get home without him, unfortunately," she said. She nudged the Prince. "You get home. You have an engagement to settle, don't you?" She could see the thoughtful look on his face and knew that sooner or later, Snow and Charming's relationship would be back on its rocky path. "I'll be fine."

"If she comes to any harm," Prince James said, tightening his grip on his sword, "I will find you."

"Yes, yes, yes," Rumpelstiltskin said, waving him away. "That's what you do, after all." He unfurled a bony hand to Emma. "Come along, dearie. Much to be done."

She glanced at her father, then clasped the imp's hand.

Abruptly, they were in the halls of the Dark Castle.

"So, it's all fixed," she said, releasing his hand. "How do you get me home?"

He looked at her, some weird mix of pity and amusement in his expression. "You think that's in my power, dearie? If I had the power to world jump, I would have done it a long time ago."

Emma felt like the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. "What?"

He spread his hands. "Whatever was done was done with a device I do not yet possess, dearie, in a world that isn't mine and a magic that is unstable," he said. "You have done what you intended to do, and your son will live, but I can't send you back."

She set the box containing the Huntsman's heart down on the table, patting the lid.

The next moment, she had Rumpelstiltskin pinned against the wall, her arm across his throat. "What the hell are you saying?" she said furiously. "I can't go home? You screw up in the future, and I'm stuck here?" He started to nod and she slammed him back again, harder. "No! No, I can't accept that! That's bullshit! Everything you've told me since I got here is bullshit! My son is out there! I can't stay here!"

His long fingers wrapped around her wrist and for a moment, Mr Gold was looking back at her. "So is mine," he said, his voice quieter, not so mocking.

"No more lies," she snarled. "No more screwing me around!"

"No more lies," he said, his voice flat. "You want to get to that world. So do I. But I can't. And I can't help you."

Emma stepped back, letting him sag against the wall, rubbing his throat. "So why did you bring me back here?"

He met her eyes. "This isn't your world, dearie," he said. "You can't interfere in it, but if you can wait, you'll be able to go back with the rest of us."

"The curse," she said blankly. "I'll be cursed with everyone else."

"And then, you'll save yourself," he said.

"I'm not staying here," she said, turning away from him. "I can't stay here. I need to get back to Henry." She turned her head, looking over shoulder at him. "How did your son get there?" she demanded, her voice low. "How did this place link to that world?"

Rumpelstiltskin was rigid, silent, then grudgingly said, "The Blue Fairy."

"She can help me," Emma said, snatching the box and stalking towards the door.

"I wouldn't count on that, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin called after her. "Unless she's a liar, there's no other way."

She wheeled around, glaring at him. "Don't ever tell me 'never'," she said. "There has to be a way. I'll find my way back to him, even if I have to tear this damn world apart with my bare hands."

Within half an hour, though, she was regretting leaving the castle. If there was one thing that she hated more than forests, it was mountains, and Rumpelstiltskin's castle was surrounded by the things. There were trees and valleys as well, and on the whole, Emma was longing for an axe and a jeep.

By nightfall, it was cold too, and as tough as she tried to be, there were some things that just sucked. Being cold and lost were two of them.

She looked up at the sky, searching out the stars through the wispy clouds. "If you can hear me, Blue," she said, "I need help."

To her relief, the fairy shimmered into sight moment later. She was even smaller than Emma remembered her looking through the cell window, but she was smiling. "Your help arrived," she said. "I hope it was all you were expecting."

Emma looked at the box in her hand. "More," she said, "but I need your help, Blue."

"If I can help, I shall," the fairy said. "What troubles you?"

Emma sat down on a tree root. "It's a long story," she said. "But you need to know it."

The fairy alighted beside her, and Emma gave her the canned version of the whole thing: the tree, the curse, Storybrooke, true love's kiss, the saving of Henry, and the spell that had sent her back into her parents' world with no way to get home. 

"So he will succeed," the fairy murmured, concern on her face. "Rumpelstiltskin made a vow a dozen lifetimes ago. I never imagined he would succeed."

"People will do crazy things for their child," Emma said quietly. "But you can't stop it. It's happened already."

The fairy nodded. "I know the dangers of tampering with temporal magic too well," she said. "The wardrobe, though. We have a way to save you from the curse. We have a way to save all of us." Her tiny hand rested on Emma's finger. "As for the curse that sent you here, it sounds like some dark magic." She shook her head gravely. "I cannot touch that manner of ill."

"Wait," Emma said. "A curse? It was a curse?"

"It sounds like one," the fairy said, nodding.

Emma stared at her. "All curses can be broken," she said to herself. "True love's kiss can break any curse."

"You have a true love?"

Emma's face split in a grin. "Better than that," she said, "I'm made of true love." She ran her hand over the box in her hand. "I have an idea, but..." She glanced at the fairy. "This box has something important in it. I know you can't touch dark magic, but I need to put it somewhere safe. Hidden."

"Somewhere you can find it?"

Emma stared into nothing. "I know exactly where to put it," she said. "Can you enchant it to stay hidden?"

"Easily," the fairy said. "Where will you hide it?"

"With the man who has everything in the next world," Emma replied. "He's going to help me go home. He just doesn't know it yet."

It was almost dawn by the time she got back to Rumpelstiltskin's castle, stomping through the gates. The doors swung open as she reached them, but the master of the castle was nowhere in sight. Emma considered the halls then yelled, "You're going to help me, Rumpelstiltskin."

"No need to shout, dearie."

"I wanted to get your attention," she said. "You're going to help me, because I'm the one you need to help you."

He snorted, approaching her. "And what makes you think that?"

She looked him in the eyes. "In the new world, I owe you a favour," she said, watching his expression and seeing exactly what she needed to see. "You don't ask for those lightly, I'm guessing. You get favours from people you need. You need me there. You need me to do something."

Rumpelstiltskin's fingers twitched. "Perhaps," he acknowledged, watching her guardedly. "What do you want?"

"There's somewhere I need to be and someone I need to find," she said. "One of the Queen's men."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "You don't do things by halves, do you, dearie?" he said. "Inside her walls or out?"

"Inside," she said. "I can make myself invisible, but I don't know how I did it, so I need help."

"There's a price for that," Rumpelstiltskin warned. "All magic..."

"I know, I know," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "Get me something to hide me, and I'll tell you how I know about Belle."

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded, motioning for her to follow him. She fell into step behind him as he led her through the castle. In her hand, the medallion that had once been a box pulsed gently. She needed a hiding place, something she had seen in Gold's shop, because there was nowhere safer to conceal something than in the deathtrap of a pawn shop.

The room he led her to was full of potions and vials, all kinds of weird things that looked like they should be in a Chinese medicine store. There was a small cabinet she recognised, which stood in Gold's shop, and she glanced at Rumpelstiltskin as he headed for the racks of bottles.

She meandered, as casually as she could, poking at books and examining strange objects on the shelves, until she reached the cabinet. The door was ajar, and she crooked a finger around it, pulling it a little bit wider.

"Why do you have so much weird stuff?" she asked, tilting her head and looking into the cabinet. There was a small chipped cup inside it, which seemed a strange thing to be closed away so carefully. It was nestled on a padded cushion, and she took it out to look at it, and in the same motion dropped the medallion down behind the cushion. 

Abruptly, Rumpelstiltskin was at her side and plucked the cup from her fingers, cradling it reverently in his palm. "I collect important things," he said tersely, "many of which you should not touch." The look he gave her bordered on the dangerous. "You have already done enough damage."

Emma raised her hands, empty now. "Just looking," she said. "Do you have a pen? I have some stuff I need to write down before I go."

He nodded to a table on the far side of the room. "Touch nothing else," he said, replacing the cup and closing the cabinet.

Emma wandered over, picking up the quill pen, though she could see Rumpelstiltskin reflected in the bottles lining the shelves in front of her. His hand was resting on the cabinet and for a moment, he looked bent with grief and weariness. 

She lowered her eyes. Other peoples' grief wasn't her business.

"So," she said, sitting down on the stool by the table and dipping the quill's nib into the ink, "how are you going to get me by Regina's security? Can you do it?"

"Of course I can," Rumpelstiltskin said tartly, and her lips twitched. So the rivalry was still as fierce here as it was there. Useful to know. "You won't have much time. Her power is focussed in her domain, so she's strongest there."

"I don't need much time," Emma said, frowning as ink blotted across the paper. It was legible, but only just. She waited as the ink dried, then got up. "How long will it take?"

Rumpelstiltskin smiled darkly. "As long as the heartbeat of a frightened child," he said, holding up a small bottle. "Drink this at her borders. It will see you as far as the body of the palace. That's the best that can be done."

Emma held out her hand. "What is it?"

He bared his teeth. "Better you don't know, dearie, otherwise you might not drink it." He held the bottle back. "Now, Belle. What do you know of her?"

"There's a letter on the table," Emma said, snatching the bottle from his hand. "It tells you everything that you'll need to know, everything that'll stop this happening all over again. Everything you want to know about what happened to Belle and what will happen."

Rumpelstiltskin stopped halfway to the table. "It's about the future?" he said, his voice chilling.

"Only things you'll need to know," Emma said, turning to face him. "Trust me, there are some things you have to know about."

"Not about the future," he snapped. "No more. You've done enough damage. I wanted to know about what happened to her. I don't need to know about a world where she doesn't exist." He snapped his fingers and the paper burst into flames. "Get out of here!"

"But you..."

"I said," he snarled, stalking closer. "Get out." He gestured, as if pushing her away and next thing she knew, she was stumbling backwards through a forest. She recognised the trees, which was kind of impressive given her known of tree was usually limited to brown bit and green bit.

At least this time, he'd thrown her in the right direction. The castle loomed ahead, and she could believe she could feel the prickle of magic in the air.

Emma looked at the bottle in her hand. The liquid was pale blue and shimmered when she tilted the bottle. It didn't look too bad, but when she uncorked it, the smell made her gag, acrid and bitter. "This better work," she muttered, before throwing back the contents of the bottle.

As quietly as she could, she crept in the direction of the castle. There were guards posted everywhere, but they didn't notice her. After she snuck around the third, then the fourth, she started to breathe more easily. That was a mistake, when - halfway down a long corridor - the fifth caught her by the arm and spun her around.

Her knee caught him in the crotch, and she couldn't have been more grateful that apparently, chainmail wasn't counted as necessary for those parts. The risk of rust, she guessed. He folded like a wet towel, and Emma bolted, running as fast as she could. 

She heard the alarms ringing, and swore under her breath, ducking behind a pillar. This part of the plan wasn't one she'd thought about: how to find the Huntsman in a huge castle. 

The air crackled and she felt hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

The Queen. Regina. She was nearby and she was bringing the magic.

Emma leaned back against the pillar, drawing a breath. She had to touch her own magic. She had to get back to Henry, no matter what else happened. Her skin was tingling, and she opened her eyes. It wasn't stable, and it wasn't somethign she liked, but she could feel it.

She stepped out into the hall as Regina prowled in, drawing shadows with her like a cloak, a means to intimdate and obscure.

"No," Emma said, calmly, spreading her hands. The shadows scattered. She looked at her hands in surprise. "Huh."

Regina snapped her fingers and the floor opened beneath Emma's feet, but she was already moving. It was like skipping on stepping stones, trying to keep her feet as she neared the Queen, but she wasn't fast enough, catching on a crack in the floor and tumbling, rolling.

"Seize her!" Regina called.

Guards descended on her, but Emma was upright enough to punch and kick, clawing, biting and doing anything she could to make it impossible for them to grab her. She knocked the helmet off one and used it as a club to bring down another, only for a third guard to wrap his arms around him from behind.

"Stop fighting," the Huntsman whispered through his helm. "It'll make things worse."

She froze, shivering there. "I was looking for you," she whispered. "I came back for you."

"Shouldn't have," he murmured, holding her arms, as other guards swarmed closer with shackles. "Why?"

She twisted around in his hold suddenly, pulling his helmet off. "Because you'll remember," she said, catching his head between her hands and kissing him.

She heard Regina's scream of fury and the world blurred around her.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma's breath came out in ragged gasps. 

It took her a second to get her bearings, away from the torchlit brightness of Regina's castle. She turned, squinting around, and recognised Gold's shop. She was standing by the counter, right where she had started out, but he wasn't behind the counter and there was no sign of any magic being done.

She braced a hand against the counter, her legs shaking, and looked around, searching for the cabinet. It was on a shelf and she stumbled towards it, pulling it open. The cushion was still inside it, but the cup was gone, and she pulled it down from the shelf, groping inside.

"No," she groaned, when her fingers encountered nothing. "No, no, no, no." She dropped the cabinet in defeat. After all that, after everything, she hadn't been able to save his heart and him after all. 

"Can I help..."

Emma turned around to find herself face-to-face with the woman Gold had been trying to win back. The woman who had turned away from him after he brought magic back. "Belle?"

Belle smiled. "Hello." She approached, bending to pick up the cabinet. "Are you looking for Rumpelstiltskin? He's just in the back."

"I-I..." Emma stared at her. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone back to your father?"

Belle frowned. "I never left," she said, turning to call, ""Rumpelstiltskin? Emma needs to see you."

The man who had been Rumpelstiltskin emerged from through the curtain, a brief smile crossing his lips. "Deputy Swan," he said.

"Wait, what? Deputy?"

He slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a familiar medallion on a chain. "I believe you're looking for this?"

Emma crossed the floor in three steps and snatched it from his hand. "How did you know about this?"

One side of his mouth turned up. "You hid a magically-shielded trinket in my domain, dearie," he said, releasing the chain into her hand. "Did you really think it would be invisible?" He turned a smile on Belle. "The tea is waiting for you, my dear."

The brunette gave him a warm smile, and Emma suspected his would have matched it, if she hadn't been there. "I'll get out of your way," Belle said. "Don't be long."

As soon as she vanished through the curtain, Emma turned her attention to Gold. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Why is she here? And what's with the Deputy?"

His smile was a quick flicker across his lips. "You think you're the only one who didn't take the opportunity to change things?" he said. "Really, dearie, don't you remember your letter?"

"But you burned it!"

He chuckled. "Think who you are talking to." He nodded to the medallion in her hand. "You'll be wanting to open that."

"But if you didn't bring magic..."

"I never said that," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "But I did explain myself first." He opened his palm. "If you will."

Emma hesitated. "You didn't close it," she said. 

"And she can't open it," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Some magic is beyond the fairies. I can unlock it for you."

Emma looked at the medallion, then laid it back in his hand. He placed it carefully on the counter and murmured and incantation. Purple smoke whirled about it, and when it cleared, the carved wooden box was resting in its place. He raised his eyes to her over the counter. 

"That belonged to Regina."

Emma picked the box up. "Yeah," she said. "And I took it from her." She could feel the pulse of the heart contained in the chest, alive and steady. She opened the lid with a trembling hand. The heart glowed within, and she looked up at Rumpelstiltskin. "You called me Deputy."

"Indeed, Deputy."

She closed the lid. "I was Sheriff."

"I recall," he said. "But you changed things, dearie. Then and now." He drew back from the counter. "Now, if you don't mind, I have tea waiting."

Emma stared at him. Changed things. Then and now.

She turned and bolted from she shop, hugging the box tightly against her chest.

The streets were as much of a mess as they had been when she left, but people were coming and going, getting used to the new world. Her bug was parked outside, where she had left the squadcar. She stared at it, them scrambled in racing back to the Sheriff's station. That was where the Sheriff should be. That was where she would have been.

The squad car was there. 

Her heart was racing as she ran up the stairs and into the station. 

There were voices ahead, and she recognised her mother's, her father's, Henry's and...

She stopped dead in the doorway. "Graham?"

Graham - the Huntsman - turned. He was there. He was alive. He smiled. "Hey, Emma."

Emma walked across the floor towards him and held out the box. "This is yours," she said, her voice shaking more than she would have liked.

"What is it?" he asked, looking down at the box.

She swallowed hard, then lifted the lid. "I told you I would get it," she said. "Sorry it took so long to get it back to you."

He looked down at the contents of the box, then back at her. He closed the lid, put the box aside and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her. Emma trembled, her hands shaking at his sides. "Thank you," he whispered. He drew back, lifting his hands to frame her face. "I remembered."

She couldn't help smiling, her eyes brimming with tears. "I knew you would," she said.

Henry had approached the desk, peering into the box. "His heart?" he exclaimed. "Emma, where did you get that?"

Emma held out an arm to him. "I'm pretty sure your grandma and grandpa could tell you that," she said, hugging him against her side. She looked at her parents. "Hi."

Snow White and the Prince were both smiling. 

"I'm starting to see what you meant about it being complicated," Snow White said. "Time travel?"

"And then some," Emma replied. She hugged Henry tightly, her other hand finding its way into Graham's. "I might have got myself written into your story."

"I don't think we're going to object," Graham said, nuzzling her hair. 

Emma couldn't help smiling.

~ THE END ~ 


End file.
